Hamlet: A Lesson in Espionage
by Violet Rush
Summary: Explore Hamlet from the twisted perspective of a habitual spier. Polonius, while still the bumbling clown we know and love, knew a little more than we all suspected.
1. Apparitions on a Danish Night

2

Hamlet: A Lesson in Espionage

Chapter 1

Disclaimer- Hey, that would be a miracle wouldn't it if I were really an old dead Englishman come back to life, wouldn't it? SO before anyone gets any conspiratorial ideas, let just say now that I am not Shakespeare, nor do I own any of his works. If I did I would be a very happy person indeed.

A/N- Yea, so I was given an A.P English assignment to do on _Hamlet_. And this is it. I am novelizing Shakespeare's play, from Polonius' point of view. So here goes. Any input would be wonderful, that way I have advice on how to make it better for my teacher.

As Polonius hid behind the curtains in the tower he fidgeted. He was spying on the three guards on the wall below him, so naturally he was looking out the window; old as he was it was not good for him to be out of doors during the chilly Danish nights. The problem was, he was not spying conventionally, he was standing behind the curtains, yes, but his back was to the door and the room and all its polished furniture lay sprawled behind him. He was exposed in the open room, not pressed up against a cold stone wall breathing in the musty scent of heavy curtains, listening to courtly goings-on.

Polonius glanced behind him, checking for the hundredth time that there was no one with him in the darkened room. Turning back to the window, he frowned. He despised being out in the open like this, but even he, Polonius the bumbling fool, was not fool enough to stand in front of the curtain he needed for cover.

Somewhere off in the distance a bell tolled the hour, eleven o'clock. Polonius jumped at the sound. He had been up here for nearly an hour already and the three guards below him were still up to nothing. Growing bored, Polonius let his mind wander.

Polonius chuckled to himself after a bit. For some reason something his deceased, nameless, and long-since-forgotten wife had once said to him popped into his head. One day while he had been spying on her as she got dressed in the morning, she had caught him. And she had irritably informed him that he must have been a rat in a past life. Polonius did not know what had brought that thought to his attention, but he realized that she had been right. He did not feel right if he wasn't hiding, or at least up against some kind of wall.

From the same somewhere in the distance the bell tolled midnight, bringing Polonius out of his reverie. Seconds later the sound of a male scream, this sound much closer, drew his attention down to the wall and the three guards.

The guards were backed up against the crenellations, huddled together and cowering. Polonius did not see whatever it was they were cowering from, but he thought contemptuously of them. Then, from the shadows, emerged another figure. This one was tall and gracefully built. He had a regal air to him that took Polonius a moment to place. It was the Heir, Hamlet, son of Hamlet and Gertrude.

Polonius was suddenly very glad he had not given up as he watched the figure of Hamlet approach whatever it was the guards were cowering from. He followed the direction Hamlet was looking with his eyes, but he saw nothing. Searching harder, Polonius noticed a faint glimmer in a patch of shadow.

Hamlet quickened his pace, but Polonius was still watching the patch where he had seen the glimmer. Movement seen from the corner of his eye attracted him. He saw it clearly for only a moment, but a moment was all that was needed. Polonius gasped, Hamlet was following the ghost of his father, the King.

For a moment Polonius fancied himself mad, but he quickly remembered the cowering guards and Hamlet's pursuance of the specter. The specter! He looked again, but both Hamlet and his father's likeness had disappeared.

Polonius ran to the other windows searching for a sign of the Prince or the ghost, but there was none to be found. He cursed himself for his choice of hiding place, from up here in the tower he could not hear clearly, if at all, what transpired below him moments ago. He took one last look out the window that overlooked the guard's platform, but even they too had gone now.

Resigned, he left the tower. Perhaps he should inform the King that apparitions were haunting the noble castle of Ellsinore. Or perhaps not, the new king would not be pleased to be disturbed at this hour and perhaps the incident was nothing at all. Perhaps, in his old age he was growing paranoid. Yes, he would wait and see what came out of it before rushing off to Claudius with stories of ghosts. Polonius grinned to himself in the darkness; this meant more spying in order to discover the truth.

Thus resolved the old man headed for his bed, and some well earned rest.

A/N- Yeah, so nobody get mad at me. This is for an A.P English class of mine, and it has to be done one week after Cold Time Break is over. So I gotta bust my ass to get it done. I'll post it as often as I can, and I'll revise it later so that it's better. But for right now I'm going for something I can turn in.


	2. Lesson 1: How to Spy on Your Son

Hamlet: A Lesson in Espionage

Chapter 2

Disclaimer- Yeah, so I am still not Shakespeare. Nor am I an owner of the Folger Shakespearian Library. Sorry.

A/N- so I realized to late that I started in the middle of Act 1, but instead of fixing it, I make passing mention to it in this chapter. But if you think about it, as I did, Polonius really doesn't do anything until Act 2, so I don't think it makes that big of a difference that I skipped most of Act 1. So here's the next part. Enjoy, to any of you out there who are reading this.

* * *

Polonius woke to the sound of a lark chirping outside his window. Shaking off the grip of sleep he reflected on the past night's amazing events. A part of him still thought himself mad, but others had seen the ghost of the deceased king as well. It was the reason he'd been in that tower in the first place.

After Claudius' first holding of Court, seeing his son Laertes to his ship back to France, and steering his only daughter Ophelia away from Hamlet, Polonius had overheard the guards, Marcellus, Bernaordo, and Hamlet's dear friend Horatio, telling the Prince a grand tale of the king's ghost wandering about the castle. Polonius had thought it a rather cruel joke so soon after the funeral. But when Hamlet had agreed to accompany the guards on their night watch, Polonius had deemed it his duty to the new king to discover what was taking place in the castle of Ellsinore.

And now, as the old man sat on his bed, he knew it was no prank, nor a trick of the light. There was no mistaking those features, even from his high vantage point. Nor was there any way of mistaking the fact that the figure of King Hamlet had glowed faintly with a pearly luminescence. Or he had not appeared to have any substance to him. His eyes had not deceived him, and his brain would not believe them. Only his heart knew the truth, King Hamlet walked the walls of Ellsinore again. The question was, what to do with this knowledge?

Certainly he wouldn't go to the king with it. Claudius, after coming to power quite suddenly, wished to have a long, glorious, and peaceful reign. He would hardly appreciate it if his head advisor came to his with the news that his dead brother now wandered the halls of the castle. No, Polonius would keep that bit of news from his kings ears, and in doing so, keep his position as head advisor.

Polonius rose from his bed and dressed himself. Now that he had sorted out his thoughts, he had real work to do.

After he had broken his nightly fast, Polonius realized his son might have forgotten something in his haste to get back to school. Not sure if he had sufficient funds, he hurriedly scribbled down a few notes and a letter to Laertes. Then he drew a hefty sum from his personal funds and enclosed it in an envelope along with his letter and notes. Next he sent an excess guard in search of his man Reynaldo. Polonius cracked the door a bit and knelt down in front of it, waiting for Reynaldo's arrival.

When he saw the tall, dark haired young man turn the corner, he hastily found him self a seat and made himself look busy. Reynaldo knocked twice on the door and opened it, not bothering to wait for permission to enter.

Polonius stood up and smiled warmly at the man. "Reynaldo! Welcome!"

The young man inclined his head even so slightly. "Sir."

Polonius went to him and slung an arm over his shoulders. "Reynaldo, I have an errand I'd like you to see to," he said. Reynaldo looked sideways at him.

"An errand?"

Polonius grinned. "Not really an errand, per se, but more like a trip." He waited to see the man reaction before he continued. Polonius let go of him and took a step back, in order to get a better look at the man. Reynaldo appeared interested.

"My son, Laertes, attends school in France, and he left yerstermorn. But I fear he left o'er quick, and in his haste he has forgotten something. I was rather hoping you were inclined to take a trip to France?"

Reynaldo made a show of considering it, but after only a few moments deliberation he agreed heartily. Polonius had known he would; it was not often the common people of Denmark got the opportunity to travel, especially when the trip was paid for by others.

He smiled warmly at Reynaldo. "Ah, good man. You make an old man very happy indeed." Polonius went to his desk and picked up the thick envelope and placed in the young man's hands.

"When you arrive in France it would mean ever so much to me if you would deliver this money and these notes to my son."

Reynaldo tucked the envelope into his tunic. "I will, my lord."

Polonius nodded. "Very good." He was about to dismiss the man to his task, when another thought occurred to him.

"Good Reynaldo, might I charge you with another task in France?" Reynaldo nodded uncertainly, and Polonius continued, "Before you visit Laertes, make you some inquires as to his behavior."

Reynaldo nodded again, as if this were an obvious answer. "I had intended it, my lord."

"Very good. Find me out what Danes are in France, and how and why, and by what mean they know my son. But do not let on that you know him personally. But say instead that you 'know his father and his friends, and so in part him'. Do you understand me?" Polonius smiled at him again.

"Aye, very well, my lord."

Polonius clapped him on the back. "By 'in part' you may mean 'not well'. But it turn out that he be a raucous young man, addicted and so, I pray you put him on, make little insinuations. None so great as would dishonor him, mark you, but little things, rebellious things common to youth and freedom."

"Such as gaming, my lord?" Reynaldo asked.

Polonius waved his arms about. "Yes, or drinking, fencing, swearing, quarreling, licentiousness, or any others like that you may think of."

Reynaldo blanched. "But, my lord, would that not dishonor him as well?"

"Heavens no! You may phrase these insinuations as you please, thus rendering them less distasteful. I do not mean you to put to a scandal, such that he is wanton with women. But merely start a rumor or two, breathing that he is susceptible to the temptations of independence." Polonius looked him in the eye, silently willing his compliance. Reynaldo hedged and started to protest.

"But, my good lord—"

Polonius frowned, silencing him. "Know you where to do this?" he asked.

"Reynaldo sighed and gave in. "Aye, my lord, I would know that."

Polonius smiled once more. "Marry, Reynaldo, here's my drift. And I think it a rather clever trick, if I do say so myself. That by you laying these slight sullies to his name, we ensure his action and calling out his accusers and correcting their folly, thus proving his virtue and innocence." Polonius was about to say more, but his mind gave out on him and he forgot all in an instant what he had been saying and what he was about to say.

"Reynaldo, where was I? I seem to have forgotten my place."

"At 'proving his virtue and innocence', my lord."

Polonius snapped his fingers, yes, that was it. He picked up where he had left off. "Ah, yes, thank you. So you see, with these small falsehoods, and my sneaky methods, we shall know quite well the character of my son. Understand?"

Reynaldo nodded. "Yes, my lord."

"Very good. You may take your leave and set your affairs in order. You have a ship to catch in the morning." The young man's eyes widened.

Apparently he had not expected to get his trip underway so soon. He turned to go.

"And Reynaldo, I would that you observe him and make your report to me when you return. Send me no letters." Polonius said firmly.

Reynaldo nodded again. "I shall, my lord."

"Farewell, Reynaldo."

Polonius turned back to his desk and listened for the door closing. No sooner had the door shut than he ran to it and cracked it a bit and watched the young man leave, muttering quietly to him self.

Polonius chuckled to himself. Now that he had the possible problem of his son under control, he could get about figuring out the mystery of the apparition.

* * *

Mere moments later the door was flung open and his daughter Ophelia burst into his room looking frightened and as if she had been weeping. She ran into his arms.

"Ophelia, my sweet, what has happened?" He asked her kindly.

"Oh, father, my lord, I was so frightened!" she cried into his shoulder.

Polonius gently drew her away from him and wiped her eyes. He held her at arms length and looked into her eyes. "My child, tell me what has happened," he commanded softly.

Ophelia sobbed once more before calming enough to relate her tale.

"Oh, father. I was most focused on my weaving in my closet when Lord Hamlet entered. He looked for all the world like a common drunkard. His doublet was unlaced, and he sported not hat. His stockings were askew and turned down at his ankles. His face was as pale as his shirt and his knees knocked together with fright. He appeared shaken, as if he had witnessed a ghost. He came to me like this."

Polonius thought on this for a moment. Had Hamlet caught wind of his order for Ophelia to stay clear of the prince and come to see for himself if it was true? He doubted it, but then, things labeled secret very seldom remained that way. News and gossip had a way of spreading through the castle and court of Ellsinore much like a wildfire.

As for her comment on the ghost, Hamlet had well and truly seen a ghost, as had he. Polonius feared the Kings reaction if he learned of the apparition, so he steered Ophelia away from that line of thought.

"Was it that he was mad for your love?" he asked.

Ophelia shook her head. "My lord, I know not what brought on this change of mood. But somehow I fear it is so."

Polonius chewed on his lower lip. "Did he say anything?"

She shook her head once more. "Not a word, my lord. He but took me by the wrists and held me hard. He held me at arms length and searched my face, as if he sought to draw it from memory. Long he held me like that. Then he let me go and shook his head 'round and let breathe a sigh so pitiful and profound that it seemed to end his being. Then he abruptly left, finding his way out the door and in to the hall without the use of his eyes. Almost like the last thing he wished to lay his gaze on was me."

Polonius thought for a moment, then made his decision. "Come, I will go to the king. This is the very ecstasy of love and it bids him to do strange and desperate things. I am sorry that this has fallen on you. Tell me, have you spoken harshly to him recently?"

Ophelia's brow furrowed. "No, my lord. I have but done as you have commanded. I refused his letters and kept myself apart from him."

Polonius winced in sudden understanding. "Ah," he started sadly. "That has made him mad. I am sorry, with better foresight and judgment I would have known that this would happen. I had anticipated him to act with proper discretion, rather than the discretion of the younger generation, or lack-there-of." He hugged her about the shoulders as a late apology. "But now we must go see the king. This must be known, for I fear if it is left a secret we would do more harm than good. Come."

Polonius motioned his daughter to follow him and left his suite at a brisk walk, shutting the doors firmly behind them.

* * *

A/N- so there's chapter 2. Nothing much to say here, so I won't. Except that if anyone is reading this at all, you need to review. Otherwise how will I know what to do to improve? Anyway, Thanks!! 


	3. A Load of News

Hamlet: A Lesson in Espionage

Chapter 3

A/N- Eeeeek. I am rapidly running out of time and am far behind schedule. So here's the next part. Enjoy. And please review! Helpful criticism is very much welcome!!!

* * *

They hurried along the halls, heading toward the king's personal suite. When Polonius arrived, nearly out of breath and a stitch working up to his side, the guards turned him away. The king and his queen were in the audience chamber with some guests. Polonius groaned and grabbed Ophelia's arm and tugged her forward. The audience chamber was on the ground floor and on the other side of the castle and they had to backtrack.

Polonius stopped, some minutes later, outside the open doors to the chamber, still towing his daughter along behind him.

"Father!" she started, breathless. But Polonius clamped a hand over her mouth, begging her silence.

There were voiced coming from within, but he couldn't make out what was being said. He motioned Ophelia to stay where she was as he crept quietly forward to the great oaken doors. From this spot he instantly identified the deep and resonating voice of Claudius, and the sweet alto and slightly lilting voice of the Queen, Gertrude. He could not identify the voices of the other two people, but he could tell by the fact that they were still doing the pleasantries that, whoever they were, they had only just arrived.

Polonius sneaked a quick peak around the door. Claudius and Gertrude were seated in their customary places, on the thrones, looking resplendent in matching gold brocade surcoats, leggings, and skirts. They wore strange expressions though, Polonius noticed. It was not their usual expression of polite interest, which equated to royal boredom, but instead it was a spark of genuine interest, need, and concern that graced their even features.

In contrast, the two men with whom they conversed were so alike Polonius thought them to be twins. They were almost exactly the same height and sported the same shade of curly brown hair, which was styled the same way. They wore the same garments, down to the laces on their riding boots. This was quickly explained away when Polonius noticed that Hamlet had come home from Wittenberg wearing the same outfit himself; these two men were schoolmates of Hamlet's. From his spot behind the door Polonius couldn't see the men's faces, but he suspected that they were alike in features there as well.

The pleasantries concluded, and the king got down to business. Polonius still couldn't quite hear so well as he would have liked, and he risked another peek into the room. Both monarchs were concentrated fully on the two men in front of them, and the unknown schoolboys had their backs away from him. Slipping as silently as he could from the hall, Polonius eased him self into the audience chamber and slid along the wall until he was in the shadows created by the wide-opened doors. The sound carried better here, and he was able to hear what Claudius was saying.

"Dear Rosencrantz and Guildenstern, it is good to see you," Claudius said, smiling warmly at the two men. "It was a great need that bid us call you both back to Denmark so quickly. Hamlet has changed much, and quickly, and he no longer resembles anything he once was, either inwardly or outwardly. We believe the cause to be his father's untimely demise, but we are not sure. We would ask of you, who grew up with him and know his moods and faults, would spend some time with him, and see if it is possible to search out the cause for his sudden swing of mood. Once the cause is discovered, it is within our power to remedy it." The Queen nodded with her new husband and spoke up.

"Guildencrantz and Rosenstern," she addressed them wrongly. "Hamlet has spoken a great deal of you and am sure there are no other men to which he would sooner confide in. Would you but stay a while and help us discern the problem your visitation shall receive such thanks as befits a king's remembrance."

While they hadn't shown any emotion, Polonius knew that inwardly the twins were already plotting on what they would do with their "thanks". The two of them bowed in unison. When they straightened one of them, Rosencrantz Polonius guessed, replied to the Queens offer for hospitality.

"Your Majesties, would it not be more fitting that you would command us than merely ask us?"

Polonius was sick of guessing which man was which, and assigned them names, regardless of whether or not they were right. He would figure that out later, when he knew how to tell them apart.

Guildenstern glared at his counterpart.

"But both of us go gladly to this task." Guildenstern looked significantly at Rosencrantz and continued. "Here we give ourselves to you, to do what services you would have of us, your Highness'."

Polonius saw the king and queen smile warmly at the two men and ever so slightly incline their heads.

"Thanks, Rosencrantz and gentle Guildenstern!" the king said.

"Yes, thank you Rosenguild and Crantzenstern. Now go, and visit my too much changed son. At this hour of the day he would either be sulking in his rooms or out and about on his horse. Fetch you a guard—"

A messenger, entering cautiously into the audience chamber, interrupted Polonius. He saw the boy heading toward the monarchs and Polonius slipped from his hiding place to intercept the boy before he could interrupt the king. Polonius whistled softly and hailed the boy to a corner.

"What is it, boy?" Polonius asked in a gruff whisper. "You should know better than to interrupt the monarch during an audience!"

The boy squirmed and dug a slip of paper from a pocket. "A message for their Majesties, my lord," he stammered.

He took the piece of paper from the boy's hand and nodded to the door. The boy knew a dismissal when he saw one and hurried to comply. Polonius read the note and smiled. The ambassadors from Norway had returned, giving him a nice excuse for being here. Not that he didn't have one in the first place, but it was always nice to know one had insurance against a king's displeasure.

He looked back to the king and queen in time to see twin one and two bow and leave. As soon as they were out of sight, the facades crumbled and Polonius saw how annoyed Claudius was and how haggard Gertrude appeared.

He stepped forward quietly. Listening as they held a private conference. "'Rosenguild' and 'Crantzenstern'?" Claudius looked at his wife questioningly. A look of exasperation crossed Gertrude's face.

"Come now, Claudius, the two of them are so alike in everything it's hard to tell them apart. Those who don't know better _still_ get them mixed up. Besides, they both have long, two syllable names I can't seem to remember properly," she sniffed, looking away.

The king shook his head. "But 'Rosenguild' and 'Crantzenstern', dear? Maybe I could understand 'Rosenstern' and 'Guildencrantz', but not the others."

Polonius, who had crept silently up to the monarchs, cleared his throat and succeeded in receiving their startled attention.

"Oh, lord Polonius! When did you get here?" asked the queen, curious at his sudden seeming appearance.

"Only a moment ago, your Highness," he lied smoothly. He had no wish for the king and queen to know he had been spying on them. "I had thought you might be interested to know that our ambassadors from Norway have returned."

Claudius' elegantly manicured eyebrows inched up to the middle of his forehead. "You are the bearer of wonderful news, indeed."

Polonius preened at the compliment. "Do you think so, my lord? I believe, unless my mind had decayed and I follow not the whims of court so closely as I have before, that I may have even more interesting news. I believe I know the cause of Hamlet's ailment." He was taking a shot in the dark, but he gambled that Hamlet had had some strange encounter with his parents this morning, much like he had with Polonius' own daughter.

Both the king and queen sat up straighter on their thrones. Claudius looked penetratingly at him.

"Oh, do tell. Of that we both wish to hear."

He opened his mouth to obey the order, but a noise in the hall stopped him. His hearing, not dulled with age, was as sharp as ever and he heard the sound of feet in the hallway, followed by a sharp exclamation from Ophelia. He had a sneaky idea, and voiced it.

"Perhaps your majesties should hear out the ambassadors first. Their news may not take waiting well," he suggested. That way if they bore bad news, Polonius could swoop in with and save their moods before the evening's festivities.

The king waved his hand at the double doors. "Go and escort them in."

Polonius hurried to it.

Out in the corridor, he stumbled upon his daughter standing against the far wall, fiddling with her apron strings and the two ambassadors standing a few feet off appraising her. Polonius nearly growled at them; he did not appreciate men ogling his daughter.

"You would do well to leave the lady alone," he said harshly. "Their majesties are waiting for you." The two of them looked dumbfounded at his tone and demand. They were royal ambassadors, after all, and no one had told them who to look at and who not to look at in quite some time.

They kept staring at him, fish-mouthed. "You _are _the ambassadors returned from Norway, are you not?" The taller and darker of the two regained some measure of composure and nodded. He tugged on the sleeve of his mate and hurried past him into the company of the king and queen of Denmark. With a wink at Ophelia, Polonius followed them.

The following audience panned out nicely. Polonius stayed and listened, positioned against the wall off to the side, but this time in plain sight. It turned out that old Norway had thought his nephew, Fortinbras, had been preparing and attacking the Polish. The Norwegian king had been livid at the deliberate deception and he had arrested his nephew. Duly rebuked, Fortinbras had sworn an oath to his uncle that heretofore he would never raise arms against Denmark. Pleased with his kin, Norway had issued the young Prince a new order. With the army all set and ready to go, they would just send them off to invade the Polish. The people he had thought were being invaded in the first place.

Voltemand, the ambassador Polonius had yelled at, produced a paper, a request from Norway, passage through Denmark on the way to Poland. Claudius deemed it a reasonable request. And Polonius suspected that it would also strengthen the relationship between the previously estranged nations and provide a show of trust and forgiveness.

The monarchs then dismissed the two men, with offers of hospitality and the promise of a feast in their honor that evening. Polonius knew it was not in their honor, for Claudius held some sort of feast, party, or celebration every evening, sometimes making something up in order to justify it.

Seizing his opportunity, the old advisor stepped into Voltemand's vacated place.

"It seems that business is well concluded." He paused a second. "Your majesties, to make a speech of my news would be a waste of time. And since brevity is the soul of wit, I will be brief. Your son Hamlet is mad. I call him mad for there is no other name for it. How do you define madness?" he paused dramatically and proceeded to answer his own question. "Madness is madness, it is one of the few concepts that is defined within itself. But that is not the point."

Gertrude rolled her eyes to the ceiling. "Cease this needless beating about the bush, Polonius. Say whatever it is you are trying to convey!"

He blinked at her. "Beat about the bush? Oh madam, I never beat about the bush. Hedge maybe, but never beat.

"Your son is truly mad, and now must needs we find the cause. For every madness there is a cause, whether it be inbred or stem from some interior motive. I believe Hamlet's to be exterior. Think on it." He gave them a moment to ponder his theory, and then pulled an envelope from the folds of his voluminous robes. He selected one scrap of parchment from the stack and unfolded it with care.

"I have a daughter, and she had obediently turned these over to me. I believe they prove my point." Polonius cleared his throat and began to read.

"_To the celestial, and my soul's idol, the most beautified Ophelia--" _He paused a moment. It had been some time since he had read this one and he had forgotten the language Hamlet was predisposed to use. He frowned. "'Beautified'? What a vulgar phrase! Why must it be so hard for the younger generation to employ proper speech?" At a polite cough from the queen, Polonius returned to the letter.

"_In her excellent white bosom, these, ect—"_He waved his arm, skipping all the flowery compliments. He flushed a little, to know such things were being thought about his little girl, by a prince no less. It made him at once proud and protective of Ophelia.

The queen interrupted him. "Hamlet sent this to your daughter?"

He nodded sagely. "Good madam, allow me to finish.

"_Doubt the stars are fire_

_Doubt that the sun doth move_

_Doubt truth to be a liar_

_But never doubt I love_

_"O dear Ophelia, I grimace at my poetic ineptitude. But I have no other means to record my thoughts. But know I love thee best. O most best, believe it. Adieu._

_Thine evermore, most dear lady,_

_Hamlet_

Polonius refolded the note and placed it with its kin in the envelope.

"My daughter has obediently given each of Hamlet's notes into my custody as she received them."

Claudius nodded thoughtfully. "And how has she dealt with his love?" he asked in an off-hand sort of way.

Polonius snapped the envelope into his other hand angrily. In one question the king had callously insulted his daughters virtue and his ability as a father.

"Do you suggest my daughter would be less than virtuous with your royal son?" he snapped. "What do you think of me?"

Claudius raised a hand, quieting the old advisor. "Whoa, Polonius. I meant no insult. You are a man of faithful and honorable intentions."

Duly placated, a small smile returned o Polonius' lips. "I hope I prove it to be so, my lord. At first I was not sure whether or not to bring their love to your attention, but with Hamlet in the state he is, I thought it best you know. After a while, when I perceived it going too deep, I advised Ophelia to keep away from your royal son, before heartbreak befell her. I made her understand that Hamlet is a prince and bound to marry for the good of the kingdom, not for love. She did as I bid, repelling his letters, receiving no tokens, and admitting him not into her presence, and I fear it has driven Hamlet into madness."

The king and queen considered this a moment or two. Then the kind leaned over the arm of his throne and whispered into the queen's ear. Polonius rocked forward on his heels slightly, straining to hear what passed between them.

They were not sure whether or not their advisor was indeed correct. Hurt, Polonius spoke up in defense of his information and reasoning.

He held his arms out wide, begging their attention. "Your Majesties, has there ever been a time, within your memories, that I have confirmed something and it has proved to be otherwise?" Reluctantly, Claudius shook his head, and Gertrude did the same.

"Then believe me. If it comes to pass that I am wrong, I will search out the truth to the center," Polonius promised. He saw the cogs working behind the king's eyes. Both monarchs knew of Polonius' fondness for spying, and he was adept and finding the seed of truth in rumors. At length the king spoke again.

"How may we confirm it further?" he asked, compromising.

Polonius steepled his fingers, thinking. "You know," he said slowly. "Sometimes he walks for hours at a time in the lobby down the hall."

Gertrude's eyes lit up with recognition. "So he does indeed."

"At such a time, I shall send my daughter by, and you and I, my lord, will be waiting behind and arras to witness the encounter. If it ends and he loves her not, I will resign my post as your advisor, and go and keep a farm in the country.

Claudius rose and shook Polonius' hand. He smiled at his aide. "We will try it."

* * *

A/N- well, there's part one of act 2 scene 2. hopefully someone will review it this time. frown. Please? Well, anyway, to anyone who read, but did not review, Thanks!


	4. Lesson 2: Always Make Sure You Have A Hi...

Hamlet: A Lesson in Espionage

Chapter 4

A/N- well here it is. The not much anticipated chapter 4. sniff, sniff. This seems so weird, not having any reviewers to respond to. Anyway, here goes.

* * *

Bowing, he stepped to the side, making way as Claudius and Gertrude stood to leave. Out in the hallway footsteps were heard once again. A moment later Hamlet passed by the open doors, oblivious to the world, reading a book.

The queen sighed. "He looks so preoccupied. Walking and reading with that pensive expression on his face."

Had electricity been discovered a light bulb would have flashed above Polonius' head. He acted quickly, hardly thinking. Without so much as a backward glance he hurried after the prince's receding footsteps.

"How does my lord this beautiful morning?" Polonius asked, attempting to hide that he was out of breath from his short chase. Hamlet glanced up from his book and smiled, a little too brightly.

"Oh, 'tis you." Hamlet's tone mimicked his smile. He went back to his book.

"Polonius started. He hadn't thought the prince knew who he was, or at least remembered him after spending so many years away at school. "You know me, my lord?"

Hamlet looked up again. "Aye. Very well. You are a fishmonger." The prince ignored him a second time as he turned a page and continued reading and walking. Affronted, Polonius took an involuntary step back.

"Not I, my lord!" he said indignantly.

The prince frowned. "Really? Too bad. I wish you were that honest."

"Honest, my lord?" Polonius asked, confused.

Hamlet shut his book with a loud snap. "Yes sir. It is no small thing to be honest in this world. One man in ten thousand may be considered truly honest."

Polonius nodded, agreeing with the prince, though not quite sure where he was going with this line of thought. Abruptly Hamlet spoke again.

"Did you know the slotted spoon _can_ catch the potato?" Polonius stopped walking and stared at Hamlet. What did slotted spoons and potatoes have anything to do with their conversation?

"Have you a daughter?" Hamlet asked, quickly switching topics and not giving the old man time to think about slotted spoons.

Polonius smiled; now he was back on familiar ground. "I do, my lord."

Hamlet nodded knowingly and offered him advice. "You would do well to not let her walk with this bright son. Conception is a blessing, but as your daughter may conceive, you may not approve." Hamlet let that cryptic suggestion hang in the air, opened his book, and resumed his trek through the corridors.

Polonius let him go as he thought about the prince's statement. Hamlet was strange indeed. He was well and truly mad, that much was obvious, and he was fairly certain that it was due to Ophelia's recent rejections. After all, he himself had gone through a brief mad spell when he had met his wife. He looked up and found Hamlet no longer standing next to him. But he was not done with the prince and trotted to catch up.

He came upon Hamlet, sitting on a windowsill in the lobby down the hall. He was still engrossed with his book. Polonius came to a stop in front of Hamlet, who did not deign to acknowledge his presence.

"What do you read, my lord?" he asked, purely out of curiosity.

Hamlet held his place with his index finger and flipped through the rest of the pages. When he had scanned the whole volume he answered the question. "Words," came the simple reply.

Polonius rolled his eyes and frowned. "I mean what is the matter?"

Feigning concern, Hamlet looked about as if looking for an argument. "Between whom?"

"I meant, what is the matter that you read, my lord." Polonius kept tight control of his voice, keeping the impatience from it. Hamlet's mouth parted in a silent "Oh" as he decided to understand the advisor.

"Slanders, sir. The author satirizes old men, saying they have grey beards, wrinkled faces, oozing cow-like eyes and that they have an astounding lack of wit, together with weak and degraded limbs. I most heartily agree with him. But it is not good manners to set down like this, for if it were possible, you sir might grow as old as I, if you could do as a crab does and go backward."

Once again Polonius was left in a state of extreme confusion. While every time Hamlet opened his mouth he confirmed his madness even more, Polonius suspected there was a certain level of method to it. Hamlet's mind was like quicksilver; it ran deep and quick, leaving Polonius scrambling in its wake.

"Will you walk out of the air, my lord?" Polonius asked, hoping Hamlet would accompany him outside. Once again, Hamlet shut his book.

"Into my grave?" he answered with a question. The king's advisor hesitated a moment, a little bit more than disturbed. The casual way Hamlet spoke of his death was morbid and unnerving. _The boy's madness must go farther than we thought,_ Polonius said to himself. He decided to humor him.

"Aye, sir, that would be out of the air." Polonius marveled at how apt the prince was at giving quick and loaded replies. Each phrase and sentence meant more than it appeared. As he was growing ever more uncomfortable in Hamlet's presence, he decided he's had enough. He needed to meet with the king and plan how to orchestrate the meeting between Hamlet and Ophelia, to determine if his daughter was in fact the cause of Hamlet's distemper.

"My lord, I take my leave of you." He bowed and turned to go.

"You may take that as often as you wish, good Polonius. Of nothing would I sooner part… except perhaps my life. Yes, my life." Hamlet then reopened his book and began reading once more. Polonius backed slowly away, regarding Hamlet with a mixture of incredulity and dismay.

Back down by the audience chamber he ran into Twin One and Twin Two. "You are looking for Hamlet?" he asked. One of them mumbled something that sounded vaguely like a yes. Polonius pointed back down the way he had come.

"He is in the lobby." Rosencrantz and Guildenstern thanked him and went on their way.

Polonius continued forward. He knew not where he was going, just that he needed to do some thinking. He was not actually sure Hamlet's lunacy was Ophelia's fault at all. He had only said so to their majesties to protect his own hide. It seemed more likely to him that Hamlet's behavior was a result of his encounter with the specter from last night. One day of rejection by his daughter was a bit soon for Hamlet to have gotten this bad. Even when he was in young and in love, his mad spell had not taken root overnight. There was more to this riddle than was visible, and Polonius meant to figure it out, all of it.

Running the scene through his head, yet again, Polonius cursed himself that he hadn't found a way to hear what transpired below him. But it was past now, and there was naught he could do to change it. He would just have to keep a close eye on the royal son and hope he talked to himself when alone. That seemed the only way to unravel the mystery. Of course he could always find and interrogate the guards, but he knew neither their names nor guard shifts. His best bet was to stick to Hamlet.

While he thought his feet carried him through the halls of Elsinore and out the front gates. He did not notice at all until loud laughter and jests reached his ears. Snapping back to the present, he looked about. He was standing on the front steps to the castle and a troupe of players was hard at work unloading their cart.

He was astonished; players had not been to the capital city in years. Then he located the head player and his knees nearly gave out under him. He knew the head player. He had gone to the university with him. They had acted there together.

Polonius rushed down the steps and called his name. The man turned around and his face lit up. Without words the two exchanged brief hugs. Stepping back, the two of them got better looks at each other.

"Oliver! What on earth brings you to Elsinore? Never mind that. How are you?" Polonius babbled excitedly. Oliver had been his staunchest companion when he was younger and it was a real treat to see him now.

Oliver laughed. "I have never been better. My troupe and I have touring Denmark and Europe for some time. But not but a fortnight ago we received an invitation from the royal family to come and play for the good people of Elsinore."

His brows furrowed. No one had said anything of a visit from players. Claudius was not even that fond of their antics. Perhaps it had been Gertrude's idea of a wedding present. Either way, it mattered not him.

"Come with me," he said. "There is someone I want you to meet. He will want to know you all are here."

Oliver gave his troupe orders to finish unloading, and followed Polonius.

* * *

Polonius and Oliver found Hamlet, Rosencrantz, and Guildenstern where he had left them earlier. Motioning Oliver to wait in the hall, he walked quickly back into the lobby. He could scarcely contain his joy and a smile found its way unbidden to his face.

As the three men became aware of him, he saw Hamlet lean in close to Guildenstern, or the one so designated, and whisper something in his ear.

"Good morning, gentlemen. I hope all is well with you," he said jovially. Hamlet then said something else to the other Twin, which made him giggle. Hamlet then called out to the old man, "You are right, sir, 'tis a wonderful morning." Had Polonius not been so intent upon delivering his news he would have caught the mocking tone in Hamlet's voice.

"My lord," he started, finally reaching them. "I have news for you."

The prince mimicked Polonius' voice. "My lord, I have news for you—"

Polonius ignored him, continuing in a rush. "A troupe of players has come to Elsinore!"

Hamlet waved his arm dismissively.

"But, my lord, they are the finest actors in the world. Whether for tragedy, comedy, history, pastoral, or any other genre, there are no better. By their acting Seneca is not too heavy, nor Plautus too light. For anything you wish to see performed, my lord, there is no better troupe!"

Something strange crossed Hamlet's features and abruptly his demeanor changed. At once he was interested in the actors where a moment ago he had nearly been scorning them.

Turning halfway round, Polonius beckoned Oliver over to them. Hamlet greeted the head player warmly, asking of their touring and other such things. After a good bit of converse, Hamlet asked politely for a taste of the head players acting quality, so that he might have an inkling as to what he would see when the whole troupe performed together. Oliver was only too happy to oblige and Hamlet begged for a speech. And at the prince's request, he started Aeneas' tale to Dido.

The speech, while artfully done, was long and drawn out. It took far longer, in Polonius' opinion, than was needed. And about halfway through he grumbled something along those lines. Of course, he was pointedly ignored.

At the end the prince's eyes were shining, bright with unshed tears, of genuine feeling and appreciation, and Polonius called an end to the demonstration. A bit perturbed with him, Hamlet sent his stepfather's advisor to see that the player troupe was suitably fed and housed. He reluctantly obeyed, but only at the very minimum the order implied. He sent the first page he met to do it for him. Polonius then doubled back to find Hamlet.

As he suspected, hamlet was still talking animatedly with Oliver._ The two seem to have hit it off nicely_, he thought darkly to himself. As was his wont, he kept to the darkest part of the hall and sidled as close as he dared to the threshold, straining to hear what was spoken.

For another brief moment the strange expression returned to Hamlet's face. He stared into space a foot or two to the left of Oliver's head. He looked almost as if he were planning something.

Suddenly he snapped out of whatever trance had held him. He turned to Oliver. "Can you perform 'The Murder of Gonzago'?" he asked.

Oliver considered it a moment. "Yes, my lord."

Hamlet smiled broadly. "Excellent. We will have it tomorrow evening, after the meal." He paused a moment. "Would it pose a problem if I added a few lines?"

The head player frowned. "Of course not, my lord. We are players after all. What is a few more lines to memorize?"

The prince clapped him on the back. "Good man. Now go and find your friend. He will see you safely lodged."

Oliver bowed with a flourish only a player could muster, and left.

Polonius had to scramble to find a place to hide. He made it behind a wall hanging just as Oliver crossed the threshold between lobby and corridor. He prayed that in the dingy light the player missed the man shaped bulge in the fabric. Luck was with him, for Oliver was so preoccupied with his thoughts to notice much of anything. Polonius waited few more moments, before easing himself from behind the tapestry. No sooner had he done so than Twin One and Twin Two could be heard coming in his direction, deep in conference.

Quickly he pushed aside the tapestry and dove behind it. The one on the left glanced briefly at it when it swayed with his motion, but he dismissed it as the breeze blowing by.

When they were safely out of sight, Polonius breathed a sigh of relief and slid out from behind the wall hanging. He darted across the hall and peered into the near empty lobby. The click of boot heels echoed off the high ceilings as Hamlet paced its breadth. His book was discarded, left open on the floor some feet away, the pages fluttering in the slight breeze that found its way through the windows.

Polonius had not noticed, but sometime during his pacing Hamlet had begun voicing his thoughts aloud. He must not have known what he was doing, for he was speaking loudly and clearly.

"What is Hecuba to him, or he to Hecuba that he should weep for her? What would he do if he were as disposed as I? Why, he would bend the words to reach the audience, making the guilty mad, the innocent scared, and confuse the ignorant. Yet, I, how can I accomplish such a thing being a dull-spirited and moping dreamer? Am I a coward to be walked over and insulted?" He lapsed into silence again, never ceasing his relentless pacing. He seemed to be thinking to himself again, and Polonius silently cursed him. He would never find the whole of the mystery if Hamlet didn't speak up. For some reason, the old man knew that this was something important. Hamlet was almost at the brink of saying something only he could tell, and it frustrated the old man to no end that the boy didn't continue speaking to himself.

Having come to some unknown conclusion, Hamlet resumed his soliloquy. "I have heard before that guilty people, upon witnessing something very similar to a crime they themselves have committed, have been so moved by the cunning of it that they confessed themselves, or exuded some symptom of guilt that was enough to condemn them anyway. With my alterations, I'll observe the guilty party and probe him to the quick. If he does blanch than I'll know him for the killer, but if not, I'll now the ghost of my father to be naught but an errant apparition who has assumed a pleasing shape in order to cause mischief here in Elsinore. The plays the thing, wherein I'll catch the conscious of the king." Slowly a smile spread across the man's determined features. He allowed himself one satisfied moment and ran to the staircase at the back of the lobby. Polonius watched as Hamlet mounted them and took them two and three at a time.

"Catch the conscious of the king?" he whispered softly when the prince had gone. What did that mean? Guilty parties and altered scenes? What on earth had the specter uttered to Hamlet? Polonius mind reeled with what he had heard. Whatever he had hoped to learn, it had nothing to do with plays and Claudius.

Realizing he still had aught to do that afternoon, Polonius turned and went in search of the players. He _had_ promised Hamlet he would see them safely stowed at Elsinore. The old man walked down the hall in a fog. Hamlet's soliloquy had aroused more questions than it had answered. If fact, it had answered none.

* * *

A/N- Whew! There, that's done. Finally! It took forever. Act 2, scene ii is unbearably long. So, not that I think anyone is going to review, but on the slim chance that someone might have deigned to read and review this. As always, constructive criticism is always welcome. And thanks!!!! 


	5. Lesson 3: Your Daughter is Not Good Bait

Hamlet: A Lesson in Espionage

Chapter 5

A/N- Yea, here it is. No point in doing it though, because no one seems interested in reading it. Whatever. It'll be here anyway. Enjoy.

* * *

Polonius stood off to the side in the king's private chambers and bristled. He had found the players, and had spent no more than a score minutes in their presence before a messenger had found him and informed him Claudius needed him, at once. He knew he was needed, but it still irked him that he was called so soon.

"So, you cannot tell me, from any of the times you met with him, why he acts so strangely?" Claudius looked at Rosencrantz and Guildenstern in turn, fixing them with a penetrating stare. He had called the Twins, Polonius, and Ophelia to this meeting, and was now interrogating the Twins as to what they had learned. So far it was not going well and Claudius was close to losing his temper.

"He did confess to being unsettled, my lord. But we could not fathom why," the Twin Polonius had designated Rosencrantz for this meeting said meekly, eyes downcast.

"We did not find him eager to be questioned, and when we would have maneuvered him into some kind of confession, he employed a crafty madness to sidestep our questions," Guildenstern added.

The Queen, who had decided she wanted to sit in on this one, looked troubled. "Was he so rude to you?"

"Oh no, madam! He acted very much the gentleman," Rosencrantz said.

"But he was very forceful in his disposition," Guildenstern added.

"He was hardly inclined to talk, but most willing to reply to our questions."

The queen looked even more troubled and a touch confused. "Did you invite him to any pastime or sport?"

Guildenstern perked up at that. "Madam, it has so happened that a troupe of players has found its way to Elsinore. When we enlightened him to their presence he seemed pleased. They have already been lodged here in the castle and I believe there is to be a performance in the great hall tomorrow evening."

Claudius' gaze flicked to Polonius for confirmation. "Oh, yes, my lord. Hamlet bid me see them safely stowed. And he beseeched me ask you that you hear and see the play tomorrow evening." Polonius watched his lord's face carefully. It seemed the players hadn't been their majesties idea at all. It was interesting for Oliver had said it was a member of the royal family as had contracted them, but it seemed their majesties had not, and Hamlet seemed surprised to see them. If it was not a true member of the royal family, then who was it?

"Then tell him that with all my heart I would hear him so inclined. And the prospect of a player performance does content me. Go, and sharpen his desire for such delights." Rosencrantz and Guildenstern bowed low and left. When they were out of earshot, the king turned to his wife.

"My dear, would you leave us as well. We have sent for Hamlet, and set it up that he should come upon the lovely Ophelia as if by accident in the hall. Her father and I will hide somewhere about the hall and watch the encounter closely, to determine if it is truly the withdrawal of her affection that had driven our son to distraction."

Gertrude glared at her husband but obeyed anyway. "As you wish, my lord," she said acidly as she stood. She turned to Ophelia. "My dear, I hope that it truly is your good beauties that drive my Hamlet to such wildness. And I hope that your virtues may bring him back to his normal ways. Good luck."

Ophelia curtsied. "I hope it may, my lady." With a small smile the queen left, sweeping her skirts behind her.

Polonius then stepped forward and gently grasped his daughter's shoulder. He guided her out the door and into the hall. Down the corridor a bit was an intersection of halls, and they had planned it that Hamlet must pass through the intersection to reach the king's chambers, where he had been summoned. It was there he stationed his daughter.

Sitting her on a stone bench in the intersection, he pulled out a book and gave it to her. "Here, sit here and pretend to be reading. That will give you excuse enough to be alone that Hamlet will not suspect you." They had gone over what she was to say already, so he and the king bestowed themselves in their hiding spots.

The king had had a servant scout out this intersection, and he had found two alcoves set into the wall on either side of the hall. They were now hiding places. Wall hangings had been moved from other rooms in the castle to hang in front of the alcoves. This was where Polonius and the king now waited.

No sooner had the king and Polonius settled themselves to wait than angry strides echoed through the corridor. He listened as they got louder, hoping it was Hamlet, and not someone who would question Ophelia. When the footsteps abruptly stopped he guessed it was Hamlet.

He could not resist sneaking a peek through the hanging. Folding back a flap of fabric ever so slightly, he could just make out the form of Hamlet, standing in the hall. He seemed surprised at seeing Ophelia. Looking closely, Polonius could see Hamlet's lips moving, but no sound reached his ears. The boy was speaking to himself again, and he wasn't hearing it.

Hamlet seemed to have made up his mind about something, for he started forward again. Ophelia, who had actually been reading, looked up and greeted him.

"Good afternoon, my lord. How do you do?" she asked coolly. She closed her book and set it on the bench.

"Very well, thank you," he replied just as coolly.

Standing up, she searched through the pockets of her apron. Finding whatever it was she needed, she brought it out and held out her hand to Hamlet. "My lord. I have a few remembrances of yours I wish to give back. I need them not." She looked him squarely in the eye as she said it. Hamlet looked startled at her demand. He took a half step back and pushed her hand away.

"Not I, my lady. I have never given you anything," he looked away as he said it.

Ophelia didn't look away, flinch, or show any sign of hurt. Polonius was proud of her, and at the same time very glad that women were forbidden to act, for he secretly thought she missed her calling as a player.

"But my lord," she continued calmly. "You know you did. And with your sweet words you made them all the more valued. But they have lost their luster. Here take them again, for rich gifts wax poor when the giver proves unkind." She took his hand and placed a few trinkets in them.

Hamlet looked shocked, he had not truly expected her to give back his gifts. His demeanor changed in an instant. His face turned hard and cold. "I did love you once," he whispered, not looking at her.

Ophelia raised her head proudly. "Yes, my lord, you did make me believe so." Hamlet's head snapped around to look her in the face. His face flushed red with the rising tide of anger. "You should not have believed me," he snarled. "For virtue may be grafted onto sinful human nature, but the sinfulness of it will remain and the fruit tainted. I loved you not."

Only not did Ophelia look hurt, but she kept her head held high. "Then I was the more deceived for it." She could not keep the hurt from her voice, if only a little.

Realizing he was still peeking, Polonius slowly let the flap fallback into place. With the way emotions were heating up, it would be best if Hamlet did not know he was being spied on.

As if he had heard his thoughts, Hamlet suddenly asked, "Where's your father?" The tone of his voice suggested that he knew he was around here somewhere, rather than he was asking out of interest. Polonius held very still and kept his breathing to a minimum, fearing that any sudden movement or breath would betray his position.

"My father?" Ophelia asked, sounding confused. Polonius' heart surged, he was so proud of her. "He is at home."

"Good," Hamlet spat. "Let him stay there and play the fool in his own house and bother not the rest of us."

Polonius heard Ophelia's sharp intake of breath, then, "O help him, you sweet heavens." She no more than whispered it, but Hamlet heard and he rounded on her once more. "If you marry, I'll give you this for a dowry: be as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, and you shall not escape any calumny. If you need marry, marry a fool, for wise men know what monsters you make of them. Now go and find yourself a nunnery." He paused for breath and started anew.

"I understand it not, why you must twist and contort what features God has granted you. Are you so ungrateful, or are you disgusted with yourself? I am sick of talk of marriage and I'll have no more of it. Of all the married couples, all but one shall live, and the rest continue on as is. Now, I'm at quits. Get to a nunnery, go!" He was fairly yelling at the end of his tirade. And with one last disgusted grunt, he turned on his heel and stalked back the way he had come.

When the last of his echoed steps had died, Polonius and Claudius emerged from behind the tapestries. Ophelia was staring down the hallway after the prince, eyes lost and confused.

"Love?" Claudius asked skeptically. "It did not sound as if he loved her at all. But more that he hated her. And the way he speaks, it does not come off the way a mad person does. But there is something that sits over his soul, tormenting him." He broke off, thinking. "I will send him to England, to collect our neglected tribute. Perhaps a spell away from here will do him good. What do you think, Polonius?"

Send Hamlet away from here? Polonius could think of no better way to solve his problem. With Hamlet not around there would not be any more disturbances and no more court intrigue. With Hamlet away in England, things could continue on as normal, and King Claudius need never know his brother's spirit wandered about Elsinore.

"My lord, I think it would do nicely. I still do believe the cause of his behavior springs from love of my daughter, but perhaps a time away from her would mend the wounds caused by her withdrawal. By all means send him to England, but first let's see if my daughter cannot tender anything more from him."

Claudius nodded. "It shall be so."

* * *

A/N- there, act three starts. Don't know why I'm asking, but, please review! It would mean ever so much to me. Thanks!! 


	6. Bloodied Hands

Hamlet: A Lesson in Espionage

Chapter 6

**Les Otho**- Agh, thank you! After two weeks I as starting to wonder if I was going to receive any reviews at all. And thank you for what you did say; it is more helpful that it at first appears. As to the language, I guess I must not have done the best job then, but I was trying to retain the high sounding English while rendering some of the more confusing Shakespearean intelligible. I didn't want it to sound like I was just "translating". Again, thank you for your comments, they mean a lot to me.

A/N- So, here is the last part of it. At least the last part of it for now. I may decide to finish out the play later, but be forewarned, it will most likely take on a humorous/silly twist.

And please don't get mad. I skipped through a couple of scenes, partly because it wouldn't have made sense for Polonius to be there, and partly because I had to turn this in the next day. So enjoy!

* * *

Polonius was pacing restlessly through the queens solar. He had reported to the king directly after the play, which had started this whole hectic evening in the first place. The old advisor was still unsure what part of Claudius' conscious Hamlet had been trying to catch, but whatever it was, he must have caught it. 

After the evening's shenanigans, Polonius was convinced that Hamlet's "madness" was all an act. He had altered the play, "The Murder of Gonzago", to something Polonius had heard him call "The Mousetrap" for the king. And whatever he had done had struck a cord in the king that caused him to near go mad himself. All the while Claudius had his fit, Polonius had watched Hamlet closely. He had observed Hamlet watching Claudius closely with a sick and, at the same time, gratified expression. It had not been the look of a mad man.

And besides that, Polonius had watched him with his friend Horatio and while he conversed with Ophelia. With Horatio he had been perfectly calculating. And with Ophelia he had been acting. Whatever game Hamlet played, it ran deep. But he was sloppy. He was not in control of his face, which gave away his ruse at madness. When he thought he was alone or with someone he trusted, the mad mask came off and his face was like an open book.

Unfortunately, the pages of his face did not tell Polonius what game it was the prince played, or what had happened with the ghost. That was one thing Polonius was sure of; the whole affair here in Denmark came down to the ghost's appearance two night's past.

Polonius frowned and sat on the bed. Hamlet's behavior told him not much more than he already knew, so he turned instead to the play itself. A key was hidden there, if only he could puzzle it out.

The play had begun with a king and a queen, speaking somberly in a courtyard. The king had bid his queen to remarry when he had died, which would be soon for he was of ill health. The queen had protested and declared she would not marry again for love. After a bit of argument over the matter the queen left her lord in the courtyard to sleep a while in peace. She had not but left the courtyard than another figure had entered, hooded and cloaked and appearing sinister.

This sinister figure, whose name was Lucianus, crept up on the sleeping king and bragged his crafty plan to usurp the crown as he poured poison into the sleeping king's ear. At that point Claudius had gone pale, stood, and approached the stage. The play had been cancelled then and there as Claudius and all but Hamlet and Horatio had gone to escort the waning king to his rooms. Whatever ailment seemed to have plagued him had vanished as quickly as it had claimed him.

Now, as Polonius reviewed the details, he was certain it was not an illness. Hamlet's game revolved around Claudius and that damned apparition.

At that moment Gertrude burst through the door, flustered. She stopped when she saw the king's advisor seated on her bed and gave a startled squeak. Polonius quickly stood and moved away from her bed.

"Madam, forgive my intrusion, but your husband bid me here. You sent for Hamlet, and he would know what the prince has to say for himself for his behavior this evening," Polonius explained.

Gertrude frowned at him. "Does my husband not trust his own wife enough to hear it from her?" she asked icily, laying her fan on her vanity.

Polonius bowed low. "No, my lady, it's not that. He would hear it from a third party. And he wishes there be someone here to ward against Hamlet's distemper. If he is truly mad, I would that you were not alone." Gertrude frowned again, but could find no fault with his reasoning, and allowed him to stay.

Polonius, preceded by a few moments of awkward silence, spoke up. "Madam, may I offer you some advice?" he asked meekly. For all that he gave advice freely every day to Claudius, Gertrude was a different matter, and it felt strange offering advice on how to handle _her_ son.

She nodded. "Thank you, my lady. I think you would be wise to play him straight. Be motherly; reprimand him strongly for his antics this evening. Be blunt with him. And I'll bestow myself here behind the curtains."

The queen nodded once more and Polonius pulled the heavy maroon drapes away from the window. Stepping behind them, Polonius cracked the window a bit, to let in some air. Seconds later Hamlet was pounding at the door.

"Are you ready?" the queen asked quietly.

"Yes," he replied. There was no answer, just Gertrude opening the door.

Polonius could hear Hamlet strut into the room and belligerently address his mother. "Now, mother, what is the matter?"

Gertrude exhaled loudly and her voice was tight with anger. "Hamlet, you have very much offended your father."

He wheeled on his mother and snarled back at her. "No, mother, _you _have my father very much offended."

Gertrude took an involuntary step back. "Why do you answer mockingly? This is no laughing matter!"

"Why do you question wickedly, mother?" Hamlet's voice was harsh and Polonius could hear him tramping about the room. "What is the matter now?''

Gertrude didn't answer right away, but instead asked, "Have you forgotten me?"

Hamlet laughed, long and hard. He laughed a harsh, mirthless laughter that sent a chill up the old advisors spine.

"No, I have not forgotten you. You are the queen. You are your husband's brother's wife. And you are my mother, though at the moment I wish it were no so. See, I know exactly who you are." Polonius heard the sound of Gertrude hurrying to the door.

"I think it's time you left," she told her son coldly. The door opened and Hamlet walked toward it.

"No mother," he said, and Polonius heard Gertrude squeal as Hamlet lifted her bodily from the floor and place her on the bed. "You shall not budge, and I shall not leave, until I set up a mirror and show you what the inmost part of you has condoned."

A sob escaped her lip, and she cried out. "What will you do? Would you murder your own mother?"

Polonius, whose mouth acted far in advance of his mind, cried out for help. He cried out without realizing he'd done so, until he heard Hamlet speak again.

"What mother, a rat? You would spy on your own son?" Polonius heard the sound of metal scraping leather as Hamlet unsheathed his sword. He did not realize what was happening until the cold point of Hamlet's sword had sprouted from his chest.

At once Polonius felt the exquisite pain of the foreign object occupying space in his chest, and a calm sort of cold spread over him. Then the sword was yanked free and Polonius sank to his knees behind the curtain s lost in a wave of fresh pain. Distantly he heard the queen scream and Hamlet re-sheath his blade, but none of it mattered. It was all miles away. He sensed more than felt that his body had toppled over and he now lie on the cold flagstones. As he lay there, staring but unseeing, his senses slowly fading, he sank into darkness and knew no more.

* * *

Slowly Polonius came to. He felt as if he were lying ensconced in a vat of molasses; weighted down. Using all his might he sat up, and as he did so he felt as if a burden was lifted from his chest. Slowly and painstakingly he extricated himself from whatever it was that held him. At last he pulled his left food free and he felt a hundred pounds lighter. 

He looked down and jumped. He was looking at himself, or what remained of it. It had not been molasses, but his own body that clung to him. He backed up and turned.

"I was waiting for you to wake up," a voice said from behind. Polonius whirled around and gaped. King Hamlet's ghost was standing before him, regal and unchanged. Polonius quickly crossed himself as the ghost chuckled.

"What would you have of me, my lord?" his voice trembled as he spoke, revealing his fright. The ghost chuckled again, walking forward. Polonius backed up and tripped over his body and went sprawling through a wall.

It all came rushing back to him. The curtains in the queen's chamber, Hamlet's violent outburst, calling out for help, the sword in his chest, and dying, he remembered every painful detail. Polonius gave a sob of anguished understanding.

Suddenly the face of the former king loomed over him, pale and translucent. "I only wish to talk." He held out a hand and the advisor took it.

"I'm dead." It was not a question. King Hamlet nodded gravely. He sank to the ground with another sob. He would never speak or hold his daughter again. He very well might never see his son in France again. He would never figure out the mystery of the ghost. His thin frame shook with the force of his anguish. King Hamlet laid an intangible hand on his shoulder consolingly.

The ghostly hand on his shoulder reminded him that the answers she sought were right in front of him. His head snapped up to look into his king's eyes. Polonius could have kicked himself, what a fool he'd been.

King Hamlet must have read his mind, for he laughed and pulled Polonius to his feet. "I see that you are ready to hear the truth." There was laughter in his eyes.

"My lord, what happened to you? What game does Hamlet play that he would kill me over it? What on earth has been going on in Denmark these pat two months?" A flood of questions was in his mind, and he would have asked all of them, had King Hamlet not halted him.

"One by one, sir. Hamlet did not mean to kill you. He thought it was his uncle, and he acted rashly. As to Hamlet's game, he is seeking revenge upon my murderer, and he is playing craftily. You see, two months past, while I was sleeping in my garden, it was not a snake that struck me, but a serpent in men's clothes." His face went hard a moment. "What you saw in the play this night was what actually happened to me. While I slept, my brother, though I find it hard to call him that, spilled poison in my ear. And when I was dead he stole my throne and my wife. He killed me and condemned me to walk forever on this earth, never seeing heaven."

"I bid my son to revenge me and set things straight in the state of Denmark. And I have been wandering through these halls watching where I would to see how it all panned out."It made sense, with all that he had witnessed so far. Claudius' and Hamlet's behavior. The queen's marriage; all of it.

"But my lord, why did you not come to me with this news?" Polonius wanted to know.

"Would you really have believed a ghost in the semblance of your former lord, telling you that your new king was a traitor? Come now Polonius, I know you better than that. You are a wonderful friend, but your first thoughts are for your own welfare. Hamlet already suspected. And even if I would have come to you, I couldn't have. You see, it is very hard to make yourself visible to the living." He chuckled again.

As much as he hated to admit it, the ghost was right; he would not have done anything about it, had he believed the ghost, for fear of losing his position. "Why tell me this now?"

"Because I thought you might want to know the whole story. I did not think it fair to leave you at loose ends for an eternity."

Well, it was very thoughtful of the ghost. Polonius looked around. "So, where do I go from here?"

King Hamlet shrugged. "I don't know. Wherever you want to, I guess. You could stay here, or you could leave, it makes no never-mind to me. I believe I will do some traveling though. There are so many places I want to see that I never saw when I was alive. That's the problem with being king." He winked at Polonius and left through the opposite wall.

How long Polonius stood there, watching the wall, he did not know. But eventually he decided to stay here at the palace. He grinned to himself. As a ghost he gained a whole new level of spying capabilities. The grin widened into a smile and he turned himself to face the great hall. He strolled off in search of Hamlet and his parents. Now that he knew the story, he wanted to see it acted out. And when this story was finished, there would be a new story to watch.

* * *

A/N- and there is the "conclusion". Like I said before. I will most likely finish out the play, but I'm taking a break from it now. And as always, reviews are very much appreciated. Thanks!!! 


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